


Battered, Not Broken

by Minipandacakes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Fluff, Healing, Hurt, Love, M/M, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minipandacakes/pseuds/Minipandacakes
Summary: Viktor's life has never been better. Sharing an apartment with Yuuri has helped him nurture his two big "L"s—life and love—more than he'd previously thought possible.So when he's diagnosed with cancer, Viktor is determined to keep his happiness intact through each and every ordeal. But how much can he really go through before he breaks?As dealing with the disease pushes the limits of Viktor's mental and physical strength, Yuuri must step up to the plate and support his fiance with everything he has to give.





	1. Viktor

Viktor closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the waiting room wall. He rubbed his thumb over and over the gold band on his ring finger, which had developed into a habit of his whenever he was anxious or deep in thought. "Viktor Nikiforov, here to see Doctor Ivanov?" Viktor opened his blue eyes and focused them on the nurse looking at him from the doorway. 

"That'd be me." He stood and walked after her as she led him down a hallway and then gestured to an open door. He settled into a chair beside the examination table and sat in silence as the nurse took his vitals and then left the room, murmuring something about the doctor arriving shortly as she eased the door shut. 

Viktor reached up and rubbed his forearms with his hands even though the room wasn't cold. He was here to get the results back from a series of tests he'd had done on a mysterious lump that had appeared just above his ankle on his right leg. It'd been hurting him for over a month now. At first he'd dismissed it as an injury from practice, but it wasn't bruised or discolored, and it didn't go away. He wished he had Yuuri by his side for the diagnosis, but he hadn't told him anything about it. Viktor couldn't bring himself to fire up his fiance's anxiety when it was probably nothing. 

Viktor was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. His doctor entered the room and smiled as she settled into a chair across from him. "Viktor, always a pleasure." 

Viktor nodded and leaned forward in his chair. "Likewise. So, the results came back?" 

He was brushing aside pleasantries to get right to the point, but Dr. Ivanov seemed to understand his urgency. She nodded, her face serious and professional. "They did. I'm afraid it's bad news. You have osteosarcoma, a type of bone cancer." 

Viktor heard the words and understood their meaning, but he didn't feel a rush of emotion like one would expect. He felt detached and numb, like this was something that was happening to someone else instead of him. The idea of having cancer was so foreign and surreal that the implications hadn't settled in. He blinked hard, cleared his throat, and managed to get out in a calm voice, "So...what does this mean going forward?" 

"Excellent question. First off, I want you to know that the situation isn't as bad as it sounds. At the moment, the cancer is only present in the one tumor on your leg. This means that the five-year survival rate is around eighty percent. Those are excellent odds, and they're only improved by the fact that you're young, strong, and otherwise healthy. I have no doubt in my mind that you can beat this." 

Viktor nodded slowly, his mind flying in ten different directions. Would he still be able to skate this season? He knew cancer treatments were no joke, so how much of his time would they take up? How was he going to tell Yuuri? Even with his head buzzing like a hive full of angry bees, all he asked was, "How can you get rid of it?" 

His doctor pushed her glasses up her nose and said gently, "The tumor appears to have grown around the tibial artery, as well as several major muscles. This means that a surgery where we remove the tumor without amputating the leg would be unrealistic and leave you with a useless foot and ankle even if we managed to remove all the cancer. This leaves us with the option of amputation." 

Amputation. The word sent a jolt up his spine like a shock of hot lighting. He couldn't lose his leg. Skating had been his entire life, and he wouldn't be able to do it with one leg. A blur of memories flashed through his mind: gliding along the ice on his skates, cool air rushing in his face. The satisfying snap of his blades hitting ice after a perfectly-executed jump. Lights, pictures, crowds of fans roaring their approval. Laughing with Yuuri as they practiced, gripping his waist and turning on his skates as he hoisted him into the air... The last thought made Viktor raise a hand to cover his mouth. He couldn't lose all that. He just couldn't. 

Viktor opened his mouth, but before he could get anything out, Dr. Ivanov continued talking. "As someone who has personally followed your skating career, I understand that this may be hard to come to terms with. The fortunate thing is how low down on your leg the tumor is. When we amputate, you'll keep your knee and the majority of your calf. With the help of a prosthetic, you'll be able to remain perfectly mobile and independent. As for scheduling the operation, the sooner the better."

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline the surgery," Viktor blurted, finally coming out of his shocked silence. 

Dr. Ivanov wrinkled her forehead as her mouth formed a hard, stern line. "I don't think you understand, Mr. Nikiforov. This is a matter of life or death. If the cancer spreads, it—" 

"No, I don't think _you _understand," Viktor interrupted. "I'm not willing to consider amputation. What are my other options?" He kept his voice calm and level, a whisper of a polite smile resting gently on his lips.__

____

____

The doctor opened her mouth, then shut it. She took a deep breath, clearly reigning in frustration, before saying in a low voice, "We can try a rigorous treatment schedule of radiation and chemotherapy instead. The process will be very difficult, and the chances of removing the cancer completely are significantly lower than with surgery. I really must insist that you reconsider your—" 

"Perfect!" Viktor interjected brightly, pulling out his phone and opening up his calendar. His hands were shaking slightly, but other than that he showed no outward signs of distress. "When do I begin treatment?" 

~~~

Viktor stepped into his apartment and looked at the clock, which he could see because all the lights were still on. It was 1:37 AM. Damn; he'd stayed out longer than he'd thought. 

He walked to the kitchen for something to eat and noticed that the table was set with food and candles. Plates of stroganoff long gone cold were set on either end of the table. Viktor chewed on his lip as a heavy cloud of guilt settled in his stomach. It looked like Yuuri had made them dinner and had ended up not eating himself after Viktor failed to come home. 

His appetite lost, Viktor guiltily slunk into the bedroom and silently slipped his shirt off over his head, not wanting to disturb Yuuri's sleep.

"You're back." Viktor winced at the sound of Yuuri's dull, deadpanning voice. 

"Mhm." Viktor walked to the side of the bed Yuuri was lying on and undid his belt as he stooped down and planted a kiss in his hair. "Sorry I'm so late." 

"I was worried, Viktor." By now anger was slipping into his fiance's blank voice. "You didn't answer any of my calls or texts. I didn't know if you'd gotten into an accident or something. What were you doing?" Viktor rubbed his neck sheepishly as he made his way to his side of the bed. So that was why Yuuri was still up; he'd been wide awake worrying. 

Right after the appointment, Viktor had gone to a bar and stared down a single glass of scotch for hours, letting everything set in. Then he'd walked along the icy streets of St. Petersburg long past dark, only heading for home when his face had gone numb from the cold. 

He'd tried to figure out what this meant for his life. He'd have to drop skating competitions for another year because the treatments would be time-consuming and physically draining. He was probably looking at the end of his career, and he hated that it wasn't on his terms. 

But all of that didn't seem to matter right now. He just wanted to be with Yuuri and make the love of his life feel better after how unintentionally inconsiderate he'd been tonight. "I was on a long walk, thinking over some important things. My phone was on silent. I'm really sorry I didn't think to let you know." 

"A walk? You expect me to fall for that?" 

"Don't believe me?" He tugged off his pants so he was left in his boxers and then climbed into bed. Viktor reached out, pulling Yuuri's back flush against his cold chest and letting out a contented sigh as the warmth from his fiance's skin seeped into his chilled being. "How about now?"

Yuuri let out a little yelp as Viktor explored the front of his torso with icy fingers. "Vitya, you're freezing! Cut it out!" He scooted away with a little laugh. "I believe you, I believe you! Just stay back until you're warmer." 

Intoxicated by the way Yuuri—his voice, his touch, his laugh—seemed to melt away his tangle of negative emotions, Viktor laughed softly and moved forward again. "You know you can't resist me," he teased, playfully tickling his sides and planting little kisses on the slope of his neck. 

Yuuri giggled and curled into a fetal position to ward off the tickling, shaking with laughter. "Vi-Viktor, stooop!" he gasped between bouts of laughter. Seeing that curling up wasn't proving very effective, he tried wiggling from his grasp, his arms and legs lashing out to push him back. 

Viktor let out a short, sharp gasp as one of Yuuri's little kicks made contact with his leg right where the tumor was at. He pulled back and cradled the sensitive area. 

"Viktor?" He looked over to see that Yuuri had propped himself up on his elbow, the slopes of his muscles softly highlighted in moonlight while he gazed at him, his dark eyes blinking just below his tousled mess of black hair. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I...I'm..." Viktor scooted up into a sitting position, hands still clasped gingerly over his leg. 

Yuuri rolled over and turned on the bedside lamp, then knelt in front of him and began to gently pry at his fingers. "Let me see..." Viktor let his hands fall away, and Yuuri's eyes widened slightly as he softly brushed his fingers over the lump. "Viktor, what...what is this?" 

Viktor took in a deep breath. There was no point in trying not to worry Yuuri now that his worst fears had been confirmed. He'd find out at some point. "It's bone cancer," he said. 

"Cancer?" Yuuri's voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. "Oh my God, Viktor." Tears pooled in his eyes and trickled down his cheeks as his shoulders began to shake.

"It's okay, Yuuri, it's okay," Viktor rushed, frantically swiping at the tears. "I'm going to get radiation five days a week starting next month, and I'm begining chemotherapy tomorrow. I'll be just fine by this time next year, you'll see." 

Yuuri leaned forward and planted his forehead on Viktor's chest, then managed in a quavering voice, "I can't lose you." 

"I'm not going to amputate, and the survival rate for this kind of thing is eighty percent. You won't lose me, Yuuri." 

Viktor circled his arms around his fiance's shoulders and set his chin on his black hair, gazing across the dark room as he rubbed his back. "I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like the first chapter? This story will have around 10 parts, and I plan on updating every Friday. :)


	2. Yuuri

Yuuri woke up the next morning to the sound of a bird warbling outside the window. He'd cried himself to sleep last night in Viktor's arms, who hadn't so much as shed a single tear. You'd think he was the one with cancer by the way he'd acted, not Viktor. 

He opened his eyes and looked at Viktor for a bit, who was fast asleep across from him. His handsome face was relaxed and peaceful, his mouth slightly open as he dozed. His silvery bangs fell across skin that glowed healthily in the early morning light. It was hard to imagine him being sick in any way, shape, or form.

Yuuri reached out and brushed his fingertips along Viktor's smooth jaw, a whisper of a smile gracing his lips as he gazed at him lovingly. He'd gotten all his shocked, scared, sorrowful tears out last night, and now he felt refreshed in a way. He was ready to take on the challenges ahead, ready to be there for Viktor if he needed him. 

Yuuri got out of bed and padded into the kitchen, not bothering to pull clothes over his dark blue boxers. He sighed when he saw the untouched food from last night, then scraped the stroganoff into the garbage. 

Yuuri got out a bowl and started making pancake batter in hopes of keeping Viktor's spirits up—he'd said he was starting chemo today, hadn't he? Yuuri set a skillet on the stovetop and melted some butter in it, then poured out a perfect circle of batter. He put one hand on the counter and held a spatula in the other, lost in thought as he flipped, poured, flipped, poured. 

He had a good stack going when he heard Viktor's footsteps entering the room. "Morning, love," Viktor murmured, coming up behind him and circling his arms around his waist. 

"Morning, Vitya." Yuuri flipped the pancake he'd been watching onto a plate and then set the spatula down so he could turn around and look up into Viktor's blue eyes. He leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, then circled his arms around his fiance's neck. "What time do you go to the hospital?" 

"Nine." Viktor eyed the clock. "I should leave soon. The actual chemo isn't until eleven, but they want to do some tests and bloodwork beforehand." 

Yuuri thoughtfully slid his hands from Viktor's neck to his shoulders and down his arms before finally stating, "I'm coming with you. You're not going through your first cancer treatment without support." 

Viktor furrowed his brow with a slight shake of his head. "Yuri will have a cow if neither of us show up to the rink for practice without any sort of explanation."

"Yuri will have a cow no matter what, always does. He should start a dairy farm. Besides, what if you have a bad reaction to the medications and need someone to drive you home?"

Viktor pulled away so he could walk towards their room. "Fine, but you have to text him and let him know what's going on. Maybe let the rest of our friends know, too. I should tell them myself, but I don't know if I can handle all the pity and worry I'll get. And we need to leave in five minutes, so get some clothes on." He paused in the doorway and turned his head to slowly move his gaze down Yuuri's body. "I'm all about showing off my fiance, but perhaps not that much." 

Yuuri blushed and trotted after him. The second he got through the door, he found himself caught up in a big, tight bear hug. Viktor picked him off of his feet and deposited him onto his back on the bed. Yuuri's mouth opened slightly in surprise at the unexpected action. "Viktor, what—?" 

Viktor cut him off with a soft kiss on the lips. He pulled away and mumbled with almost-shy little smirk, "You're irresistible, you know that? I can't help myself." His hands slid themselves over Yuuri's chest and torso as he said the words. 

Yuuri felt heat rise to his face as Viktor stooped his head down to plant little kisses along his collarbone, adding the occasional nibble as he did so. Yuuri tilted his head back, each kiss from Viktor's soft lips sending a swirl of pleasure from the surface of his skin to deep inside his body. "Ahh—Viktor..." Viktor's hands rested over his fiance's hips while he trailed the tip of his warm tongue lightly down Yuuri's sternum. He kissed his way down Yuuri's abs, slowly going ever southward. 

Yuuri could tell where this was going, and as much as he ached for it, they didn't have the time. It took every ounce of responsible self-control Yuuri had to protest, "V-Viktor, you said five minutes!" 

"So I did. Shame." Pink-faced and looking slightly hurt, Viktor straightened and began to back up. 

Yuuri quickly sat up and grabbed his wrist. "We can continue this when we get back home, right?" 

Viktor's rejected look melted into a warm little smile. "There's nothing I'd like more." 

~~~

A few hours later, the two of them sat in a hospital room. Viktor had an IV in his arm, which was administering the chemotherapy medication. Everything had gone smoothly with the tests and bloodwork before treatment began, and the nurses had even let them eat the pancakes Yuuri had packed while they waited for results. 

Now Yuuri was skimming through a magazine to keep himself entertained. Viktor drummed his fingertips on the armrest of his chair, bored. "What're you reading?" 

"This article about a couple's relationship. The woman is a stripper, and her boyfriend supports it." Yuuri looked up from his magazine. "What do you think of that? Wouldn't you get jealous if you were in the guy's shoes?" 

"Mm? I don't imagine I'd mind." Viktor shrugged. "It's not really cheating in my opinion; there's a big difference between doing a pole dance for an audience and being a prostitute, or something like that." Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? Thinking about switching from skating to stripping? I mean, if that's what you want to do. I of all people know how talented you are..." 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Don't tease me. I'm half-convinced those pictures from the banquet were photoshopped." 

"Keep telling yourself that," Viktor retorted. Before Yuuri could fire off a response, a nurse walked in and checked the IV bags on the stand beside Viktor. 

She smiled and eased the needle from his arm. "You're all finished, Mr. Nikiforov. You can leave, but make sure this gentleman here does the driving in case you start feeling sick. Be sure to come right back to the hospital if you have any severe reactions besides nausea and fatigue. Other than that, you're good to go until we repeat the treatment tomorrow." 

They thanked the nurse and left the hospital. Viktor tossed the keys to Yuuri and climbed into the passenger side of the car. "That wasn't so bad. I'm a little queasy, but other than that I feel fine." 

"Glad to hear it. You should still take it easy today," Yuuri said as he started the car. He glanced over at his fiance every so often while he drove. Viktor's face seemed even paler than usual, and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. 

When they were about halfway home, Viktor circled his arms around his waist and rushed urgently, "Yuuri. Yuuri, pull over. I'm going to..." 

"I-I can't, we're on the highway! Here, take this." Keeping his eyes on the road, Yuuri reached into the backseat with one hand and thrashed his arm around until his hand thumped against the small wastebasket he'd brought along, just in case. 

He passed it to Viktor, who gripped it with white-knuckled fingers. After a few moments, he retched, but nothing came up. The second heave brought up a mess of half-digested pancakes. Viktor kept throwing up until he was retching up yellow, acidic bile. His body finally seemed to understand that there was nothing left in his stomach, because the heaving stopped.  
Viktor groaned softly and leaned forward, eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. Yuuri reached over with one hand and rubbed his back soothingly. "I'm fine," Viktor said with his eyes still shut, gasping slightly for air. "I-I'm okay. Just focus on driving." Yuuri bit his lip and sped up a bit, his insides churning with worry. He wanted to get them home as quickly as possible. 

When they got back to the apartment, Viktor shakily got out of the car and went inside, beelining straight for the bathroom. Yuuri heard the bathwater start running, so he got out the tea kettle. Maybe something hot to sip would help settle Viktor's stomach and get the bad taste of vomit from his mouth while he relaxed in the bath. 

Just as he was about to fill the kettle with water, his phone's text notification buzzed. Yuuri tugged his cell from his jeans and scanned the the contact name: Smol Punk. Shit, he'd forgotten to explain the situation to Yurio. He was probably complaining about them missing training. 

He unlocked his phone and sent him an explanation, then decided he might as well let the rest of their friends know what was going on. He typed up a message explaining the cancer situation and sent it to people who'd want to know: Yakov, Phichit, Chris, the Nishigoris, and his parents, to name a few. 

In minutes, his phone was blowing up with calls and texts. He paced the kitchen and tried to calm his worried friends by repeating the same explanations over and over: No, it wasn't terminal. Yes, he was keeping his leg. No, he wouldn't be skating this season. Thanks for the suggestions on how to cheer him up, Chris, but he could handle this. 

By the time he'd mostly pacified their panicking aquantinces, nearly two hours had passed. Yuuri cursed under his breath and powered off his phone. So much for making tea. He walked to the bathroom and gently rapped on the door, only to be met with silence. 

"Viktor?..." Yuuri eased the door open and peered inside. Viktor's head was bowed so that his chin nearly touched his chest, clearly asleep. Yuuri crossed the room and crouched beside the bathtub, then reached out and shook his shoulder. "Viktor, wake up." 

Viktor's eyelids fluttered, and he groaned a bit as he turned his head to the side. "God, don't make me move," he mumbled in a pained voice. 

Yuuri put his hand in the water and noted that it was getting cold. Viktor couldn't just lie here like this. "I'm going to pick you up, okay?" he murmured gently. Yuuri slipped one arm under his knees as the other gripped his upper back, then lifted him from the water. 

Viktor was too sick to comment or protest. He simply bowed his head and circled his arms around Yuuri's neck to hold on. Yuuri straightened, silently straining to support the taller male. He made it to their bedroom and set him on the bed. "Do you want boxers or pajamas or something?" he asked softly, pushing Viktor's damp bangs from his face. 

Viktor shook his head and turned his back to Yuuri, tugging the blanket over his bare body and then going completely still. Yuuri toyed with hem of his now-wet shirt, anxious and concerned. "Okay. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything—food, water, pain killers, kisses..." The back of Viktor's head moved ever-so-slightly in a nod. 

Yuuri left the room and settled onto the couch. He flipped open his laptop and spent the next several hours finding out everything he could about bone cancer, treatment options and their side effects, and general advice. He was in the middle of perusing an article titled, "Coping—Facing Cancer with Your Spouse or Partner" when he glanced at the time and noticed that it was six o'clock in the evening. Viktor was probably getting hungry by now, so he got up and bustled around the kitchen as he made supper. 

When he had everything prepared, he ventured to their bedroom and peeked inside. Viktor's condition appeared to have improved significantly in the hours that had passed since the bath. A bit of color had come back into his cheeks, and he was sitting up reading one of the chemo pamphlets they'd grabbed at the hospital. 

Yuuri crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "I made tofu with rice. It's hardly katsudon, but I decided to make stuff from the recommended food list they gave me at the hospital. With a little luck, you'll be able to keep it down." 

Viktor shook his head. "I appreciate it, but you couldn't pay me to eat right now." 

"Viktor, baby, you didn't eat dinner last night and you haven't had anything today except the pancakes you ended up puking out. You have treatment again tomorrow, and you need to keep your strength up. Please, just a little rice." He took a clump of rice in his chopsticks and nudged his fiance's lips with it, but Viktor only closed his eyes, scrunching up his face and pursing his mouth tightly shut.

Yuuri sighed and lowered the bite of food back to the bowl on his lap. "How about a kiss, at least?"

Viktor nodded once without opening his eyes. "Please."

Yuuri stealthily popped a larger cube of tofu into his mouth, then stooped forward and pressed his lips to Viktor's. Viktor didn't respond as energetically as usual, but he still returned the kiss and, as Yuuri had predicted, parted his lips to welcome Yuuri's tongue with his own. Yuuri used his tongue to press down Viktor's and slip the food into his mouth.

Viktor made a face, but he chewed and swallowed all the same. "You're gross, you know that?" 

"But did I get you to eat, baby bird?" 

"Just because I'm sick doesn't mean you get to call me patronizing nicknames." He smiled teasingly. "Let's not forget who the dominant one is here." 

Yuuri wiggled his eyebrows. "You mean, me?" 

They were equals in the relationship, and even though Viktor tended to top, that wasn't always the case. Things flip-flopped depending on their moods and what was going on. Yuuri could have Viktor begging for more one night and find himself handcuffed to the bed the next. The fluid dynamic kept things interesting, and it was entertaining to tease each other from time to time to test out the waters of the current power dynamic. 

"Keep dreaming, little piglet. We both know I'm the natural leader." 

"Really? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure a big, tough dom could get down more than one cube of tofu." 

"Mmmrrgg," Viktor moaned sulkily. "I could, but food is just so unappealing right now." 

"Tell you what. You eat all the food for me, and I'll eat something for you."

"Why would I care what you—" Viktor cut himself off, probably because he noticed Yuuri's smirk and raised eyebrow. 

Yuuri watched his cheeks turn a light, slightly-flustered pink as he understood. He held out his hand, fighting back a grin. "Give me the bowl." 

"I thought you'd say that." Satisfied, Yuuri passed over the food and watched him eat. 

At this time yesterday, he hadn't even known that Viktor was sick, and now he was already dealing with the gritty realities of cancer and chemo. 

Even so, Yuuri felt nothing but a confident kind of acceptance when he thought about the weeks and months ahead. They'd conquer this together, one step at a time.


	3. Viktor

Warning: This is the main chapter that made me rate this story mature. Nothing explicit happens, but it contains mature themes and situations, some of which may be triggering. 

Viktor laid stretched out on the couch, phone held above his face with one hand as he absent-mindedly stroked Makkachin with the other. He'd barfed his way through his first week of chemo, which meant that he had a good three weeks of rest before he had to do it all over again. It was the fourth day he'd been off treatment, and even though he still felt worn-out, the last of the nauseated sickness had passed. 

Yuuri walked into the room, shrugging on his jacket. "I'm going to the rink to practice. Do you need anything from the store if I do a little shopping afterwards?" 

Viktor shook his head. "No, I'm good." He glanced at the time on his phone: 8:17 PM. "Isnt it a bit late for skating?" 

"Yeah, but I kept messing up my quads earlier today, and it's bugging me. I want to give them another go." 

Viktor nodded. "Alright, have fun." 

"You know how hard that is to do without you there," Yuuri said softly, quickly stooping to kiss the part in Viktor's hair as he headed towards the door. "Be back in a couple hours," he called, and then he was gone. 

Viktor lowered his phone thoughtfully. Maybe he should go after him. He hadn't been to the rink recently because he'd been so ill, but there was no reason he couldn't do a little light skating and give Yuuri some pointers now that he was feeling better. He gently nudged Makkachin off of him, murmuring out an apology when the dog whimpered in sulky protest. He put on his long, warm overcoat and slipped shoes on his socked feet, then left the house. 

He'd purposely chosen a residence only a block from the ice rink he liked to practice at, so Yuuri's familiar form was already approaching the building. Viktor was about to call out to him when Yuuri walked right past the rink. Viktor closed his mouth in puzzled surprise as his fiance turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Was he shopping first? It didn't make much sense, but that was the only explanation that he could think of. 

He broke into a little jog and soon turned the corner, then scanned the street in front of him for Yuuri's tell-tale shock of black hair. He easily spotted him crossing the street and disappearing into a building. Viktor's heart sped up when he scanned the glowing lights and signs brightening the exterior. He'd been there once before, so he didn't need to be told that it was nightclub. 

Was Yuuri...cheating on him? Viktor shook his head. No. He trusted Yuuri, but that didn't make this any less confusing. What was going on? Why had Yuuri lied to him? 

He made his way across the street and swung open the doors to be greeted by loud, thumping music that seemed to vibrate his very core. Viktor walked in and settled into a shadowy corner as he took in the scene. A bar lined one side of the room. On the other were leather couches woven around raised stands with poles where strippers danced seductively. 

It didn't take him long to locate Yuuri, who was hunched into himself at the bar, downing drink after drink. Viktor's confusion bubbled into concern. Was he okay? Yuuri didn't drink often; was he doing this because of how stressful nursing a fiance with cancer was? 

Before Viktor could decide how to approach the situation, a balding, middle-aged man walked over to Yuuri and took ahold of his shoulder, spinning him on his stool so that he faced him. Viktor couldn't hear what the man said over the loud music, but he seemed upset, almost scolding. 

Yuuri seemed to say something back, and the man shook his head, fired off a response, and then started across the room. Yuuri finished the drink in his hand and then took off after the strange man. They both disappeared through a door with FACULTY ONLY printed on it in bold lettering. 

Distressed and still confused, Viktor stood from his spot in the corner and went to the bartender. "A Dark 'n' Stormy, please. What happened to the dark-haired foreigner that was here a second ago? Is he in trouble?" 

"In trouble? No. Not much, anyway. That's a new dancer here at the club, and the owner was a little angry that he was getting tipsy before the performance. The old fart needs to lighten up, in my open. A lot of strippers can't get out of their own skin unless they've had a drink or two to take the edge off, y'know?" 

"Right," Viktor responded as he slid money for the drink onto the counter. Glass in hand, Viktor turned from the bar and took a seat at a circular table with a good view of the only unoccupied pole. He sipped slowly at his drink as he waited. 

It didn't take long for Yuuri to appear, dressed in only a pair of tight black boxers. His face pink from the alcohol, Yuuri stood and scanned the room in front of him. Their eyes met. Viktor knew Yuuri recognized him by the way his eyes widened in surprise and his mouth opened into a shocked little O. Viktor smiled a bit and gave him a little wave, then set his chin in his hand and leaned forward to watch. 

Blushing with a red that Viktor guessed came from more than just drinking, Yuuri reached out and took the pole in his hands. He hoisted himself into the air, alternating between holding himself up with his arms and holding himself up with his thighs as he twisted and spun himself into an array of flexible positions in time to the music. While it was breathtaking and impressive, there was nothing...sexy about it other than the fact that Yuuri was in boxers and how strong he clearly was for being able to pull it off. 

After a few minutes the song ended, and Yuuri lowered himself to the ground, panting slightly. He hadn't looked back at Viktor during the entire performance, and Viktor couldn't help but feel that he was embarrassed at the situation. There was several seconds of silence, and then the next song started. This was much quieter than the last one, the slow, soft music a sharp contrast to the aggressive, fast-paced beating in the other song. 

Viktor's ears perked in recognition. He'd heard this before. He was 90% sure it'd been on Yuuri's music playlist that had run in the background the night they first had sex. The plan hadn't been to do anything more than make out, but they'd gotten caught up in the sensual music, the glow of each other's skin in the moonlight, and of course each other. 

Yuuri paused, listening, and then continued performing. From the transformation that came over his dancing, Yuuri seemed to remember the song too. Viktor watched, enthralled, as Yuuri's torso dipped down into a low bow. He arched his back as he slowly straightened, accentuating his pert bottom even more than usual. 

Heat built in Viktor's chest and spread through his body as he drank in Yuuri's toned body from the bottom of his legs all the way up to his face. A little shock shot through his heart as their eyes met for the second time that night. This time Yuuri was deliberately looking at straight at him, a seductive little smirk tugging at his lips. 

Rapt with awed arousal, Viktor looked on as Yuuri reached up and gripped the pole above his head. His back to the pole, his flawless body slowly slid all the way down to the floor. Yuuri transitioned smoothly onto his hand and knees and kept his ass in the air as he dipped his chest towards the ground and then arched himself back up, gripping onto the bottom of the pole as he did so. He worked his way back up into a standing position, his hips swaying seductively the whole time. 

At this point, Viktor's heart was hammering in his chest, and he almost forgot to breathe. All of his energy went to watching Yuuri, loving his every move, wanting him so badly it hurt. 

And then, the moment was shattered. A loud, rowdy voice asked, "Who's going to do it? Boris? Igor?" Viktor tore his gaze from his fiance to focus on a group of about ten men standing around watching Yuuri. 

One shook his head. "Are you kidding me? You can get in serious trouble for that." 

"Fine. If you pansies won't, then I will. Watch and learn." A muscly, dark blonde man who appeared to be in his late thirties hefted himself up onto the raised platform. He approached Yuuri and reached behind him to squeeze his butt. "Hey, cutie." 

Viktor was up in an instant. He rushed forward to stop him, only to be pushed back by the friends surrounding the base. "Don't ruin the fun," one growled. 

Up on the platform, Yuuri pushed the groping arm aside and took a step back, stumbling slightly. "Careful, there," the man murmured, hooking his fingers around Yuuri's side and tugging him back towards him, "Wouldn't want you to fall."

"Let me through!" Viktor's heart was up in his throat. Waves of fury and alarm coursed through his body. He shoved the man blocking his way aside, only to find five more pairs of hands shoving him back. Viktor struggled against them, eyes locked on Yuuri and his attacker the whole time. 

"Leavvv me alone," Yuuri protested in English. "Watashi o hottoite!" He repeated the phrase, this time in Japanese. Panic was evident in his slurred voice as the man pushed Yuuri's back into the pole and loomed over him. 

"What was that?" The man slid a hand down the muscles of Yuuri's torso and purred, "I'm afraid I only speak Russian." With that, he tugged Yuuri flush against his body with one hand and gripped his jaw tightly in the other so he could hold Yuuri's head steady as he began to aggressively kiss him to whoops of approval from his friends. 

Tears visibly pooled in Yuuri's eyes. He tried to twist his head away from the kiss and push at the man's chest, too sluggish and disoriented from drinking to overpower the other. 

Viktor took advantage of the fact that the men too distracted watching the kiss to pay him much mind. He managed to shove his way all the way through the clot of jeering, cheering friends and hoist himself up onto the raised platform. He shouldered his way in between the two, pressing his palm to Yuuri's chest as he held the man back at arm's length with the other. 

"*Он сказал, чтобы отступить, ты змея," he growled, pushing him as hard as he could. The man lost his footing and fell backwards onto the ground, his fall mostly cushioned by the throngs of people. 

He righted himself and sneered up at Viktor. "What the hell? I was only having a little fun. He's a whore, anyway, so he probably enjoyed it." 

A strangled growl escaped from Viktor's throat, and he jumped down from the platform. Viktor was incredibly good at holding back his emotions, especially anger. He'd never physically lashed out at anyone, but then, he'd never been this enraged either. The image of Yuuri, sobbing and squirming in uncomfortable terror, flashed across his mind the instant he smashed his fist into the man's nose, knocking him flat on his back. He fell to his knees over him, slamming fist after fist into his face until he was dragged off by the man's friends. 

Viktor felt several pairs of hands grip his arms and shoulders and jerk him up while the man staggered to his feet, blood leaking from his nose and the side of his mouth. "You're going to regret doing that, blue eyes," he growled before he rammed his fist into Viktor's stomach. Viktor gasped for air and doubled over. The moment he started to raise his head, another blow landed on his jaw. 

"Don't hurt him!" Suddenly Yuuri was there between Viktor and his attacker, tears pouring down his cheeks and fists clenched threateningly. 

Before the man could respond, the group was flooded with bodyguards finally called in from outside. A strong hand gripped the collar of his coat and dragged him towards a back door. Viktor was shoved forward into an alleyway with such force that he skidded to the ground. Seconds later, the man who'd bothered Yuuri and a couple of his friends were pushed out as well. They shot glares in his direction before simply walking off, muttering under their breath. 

Viktor stood and dusted himself off. The owner appeared in the doorway, Yuuri's shoulder gripped in one hand and his clothes bunched in the other. He nudged him into the alley and shoved the clothes into his chest. "Don't bother coming back. I don't need dancers who start drama." 

Viktor bristled. "He didn't do anything! Is this seriously how you treat-" Viktor would never get to finish telling him off, because the owner slammed the door in his face. Viktor turned to Yuuri, who was unsteadily getting into his jeans, his breath clouding in the cold night air. Viktor picked up Yuuri's shirt and passed it to him once he had the pants on. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fffine," Yuuri slurred shortly. He put on the shirt and then picked his shoes up by hooking his fingers in the openings, not bothering to put them on. He slung his jacket over his arm and then turned on his heel, swiping at his wet cheeks as he started unsteadily towards their house. 

"Oh no, you don't." Viktor jogged to catch up with him and swept him into his arms. 

Yuuri struggled against him. "Viktor, lemme down! You don' wanna strain yourse-" 

"Nonsense. It's cold, and you're not wearing shoes. And there's nothing straining about holding my favorite person." 

Yuuri seemed to relent, because he sighed laid his head on Viktor's chest, then lapsed into silence. He only spoke up when they turned the corner and their house came into view. "I'm sorry, Vitya. I messedd up. I-its just that, my family's business izz having trouble so I needed to help them out with money, and skating is my only source of income an' even that isn't much cuz I'm on a training break right noww, and I wasn't going to be able to pay my half of the bills. Dancing pays good and I know youuu're rich buuut I d-don't wannabe a-a burdenn." By now Yuuri was full-on ugly crying, tears pouring down his cheeks and snot leaking from his nose as he slurred through his words in blubbering whimpers. 

Viktor listened in silence as he got the front door open with some difficulty and then walked to the bedroom. Yuuri's voice came out strained and high-pitched as he continued, "Aand then that guy touched me and kissed me and I wuzz so scared. I couldn't stopp him so you did, and then he HUURT you! You got HURT, and itz allmyfault!" 

Viktor set Yuuri on the bed and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Two things. First of all, I'm fine. That guy hit like a child," he said, partially lying. He'd have some bruises, but that was the last concern on his mind. 

Viktor knelt over Yuuri, hands planted on either side of his head so he could look directly into his face. "Second of all, you will never be a burden. Do you understand that? Never." Viktor gazed deep into Yuuri's wide, brown eyes. It blew his mind that Yuuri could nurse him through a week of throwing up and lying around in agony like a dead man and then consider HIMSELF a burden. Besides, all his money was Yuuri's as well in his mind. They were going to get married, why shouldn't it be? 

"I love you with everything I have in me, Yuuri. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, the only reason I even get up on the bad days. Don't you ever be afraid to talk to me about something that's bothering you. We can work it out together." With that, he moved to lie on his back beside him. "Anyway, it's been a traumatizing night, and you need rest. How about we go to sleep and finish discussing in the morning?" 

"O-okay," Yuuri murmured softly. Viktor could already sense Yuuri swinging from sad intoxication to the dazed, loving drunkenness he'd had when they first met. "I luvv you," he sighed happily, nestling his cheek into his shoulder. 

Viktor reached up and played absently with Yuuri's dark hair. "I love you too." 

Yuuri grinned from ear to ear as if he was hearing those words for the first time. "You saaaved me, Viktor. You're strong and brave, an' sexy..." His face pink and eyes bright, Yuuri squirmed up against Viktor and whined longingly, "Will you make love to me, Vitya?"

Viktor blushed in pleased surprise. "You make the best requests when you're drunk, you know that? But I'm going to have to say no."

"But Viiiiktor," Yuuri sniffed in injured disappointment, "Why not?" 

"Because you're blackout drunk, and I'm not. I'm not screwing my fiance when he can't even see straight."

Yuuri nodded sulkily and plopped his head on the pillows. "Oh. Okay." Moments later, Yuuri raised his head up, his eyes sparkling as if he'd just thought of the most genius idea in the world. "How about _I _fuck YOU instead?"__

_____ _

_____ _

Viktor couldn't stop a grin from taking over his face. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his fiance in his arms. He closed his eyes, kissed Yuuri's forehead, and murmured with loving, gentle authority, "Go to sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Translation: He said back off, you snake.  
> Yuuri's attacker was also speaking Russian the whole time, but he said so much that it would be annoying if I put everything in his language.  
> Anyway, how did you like this update? It has a different vibe from the other chapters because the main focus isn't Viktor's illness. Thought you guys could use a break from the cancer theme before we jump back into it with the next chapter.


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